Around age 10, my dad got me one of those little bad ass compound bow beginner kits. Of course, the first month I went around our land sticking arrows in anything that could get stuck by an arrow. Did you know that a 1955 40-horse Farmall tractor will take 6 rounds before it goes down? Tough sumbich.

That got boring so being the 10-year-old Dukes of Hazard fan that I was, I quickly advanced to taking strips of cut up T-shirt doused in chainsaw gas tied around the end, and was sending flaming arrows all over the place. Keep in mind this was 99.999% humidity swampland so there really wasn't any fire danger. I'll put it this way - a set of post hole diggers and a 3 foot hole, and you had yourself a well.

One summer afternoon, I was shooting flaming arrows into a large rotten oak stump in our backyard. I looked over under the carport, and see a shiny brand new can of starting fluid (ether).

The light bulb went off. I grabbed the can, and set it on the stump. I thought that it would probably just spray out in a disappointing manner...lets face it, to a 10-year-old mouth-breather like myself, ether really doesn't "sound" flammable. So I went back into the house, and got a one-pound can of pyrodex (black powder for muzzle loader rifles).

At this point, I set the can of ether on the stump, and opened up the can of black powder. My intentions were to sprinkle a little bit around the ether can, but it all sorta dumped out on me. No biggie...one pound of pyrodex and 16 oz. ether should make a loud pop, kinda like a firecracker, you know?

You know what? Screw that! I'm going back in the house for the other can. Yes, I got a second can of pyrodex, and dumped it, too. Now we're cookin'...

I stepped back about 15 feet, and lit the 2 stroke arrow. I drew the nock to my cheek, and took aim. As I released it, I heard a clunk just as the arrow launched from my bow. In a slow motion time frame, I turned to see my dad getting out of the truck... OH SHIT! He just got home from work. So help me God, it took 10 minutes for that arrow to go from my bow to the can.

My dad was walking towards me in slow motion with a WTF look in his eyes. I turned back towards my target just in time to see the arrow pierce the starting fluid can right at the bottom. Right through the main pile of pyrodex, and into the can. Oh. Shit.

When the shock wave hit, it knocked me off my feet. I don't know if it was the actual compression wave that threw me back or just reflex jerk back from 235 fricking decibels of sound.

I caught a half a millisecond glimpse of the violence during the initial explosion, and I will tell you there was dust, grass, and bugs all hovering 1 foot above the ground as far as I could see. It was like a little low to the ground layer of dust fog full of grasshoppers, spiders, and a crawfish or two.

His hat has blown off, and is 30 feet behind him in the driveway. All windows on the north side of the house are blown out, and there is a slow rolling mushroom cloud about 2000 feet over our backyard. There is a Honda 185s 3-wheeler parked on the other side of the yard, and the fenders are drooped down, and are now touching the tires.

I wish I knew what I said to my dad at this moment. I don't know. I know I said something. I couldn't hear. I couldn't hear inside my own head. I don't think he heard me either... not that it would really matter.

I don't remember much from this point on. I said something, felt a sharp pain, and then woke up later. I felt a sharp pain, blacked out, woke later.... repeat this process for an hour or so, and you get the idea. I remember at one point my mom had to give me CPR so dad could beat me some more. Bring him back to life so dad can kill him again. Thanks Mom.

One thing is for sure... I never had to mow around that stump again. Mom had been bitching about that thing for years, and dad never did anything about it. I stepped up to the plate, and handled business.

Dad sold his muzzle loader a week or so later. And I still have some sort of bone growth abnormality either from the blast or the beating. Or both.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, get your kids into archery. It's good discipline and will teach them skills they can use later on in life.

but kudos to him for a good story. Never got into archery. When i was a kid, wal-mart had the hunting bows out so you could handle them still. Of course they were all tightened down for the strongest draw possible, and I never did get over not being able to draw them. Thought I was too much of a wuss, so I gave up on archery.

"I have always been a soldier. I have known no other life. The calling of arms, I have followed from boyhood. I have never sought another." From The Virtues of War, by Steven Pressfield.

I got it from a friend and sent it to samd, who said I should post it. Seems to have instigated a couple other stories here, which are also very funny. I thought I was going to split a gut when I first read it. Seriously, I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe.

"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." - Edmund Burke

this is supposed to be an insurance companys revue of an accident that has one thing after another with a load of bricks being hoisted up the side of a building.. I couldn't do it justice so will wait till i can find it and post it in the original form...anyone how has ever seen it already knows what im talking about and im sure has the same memory of it..
I caught the credit you gave to someone else on the original.. but would not have been able to experiance it if you didn't bring it to the site... so i stand by what the compliment.. Maybe we can start a top 10 list of funny storys and use that to kick it off.

a man has to hold his word, hold his beliefs, and hold a good sight picture.

I am writing in response to your request for additional information in Block 3 of the accident report form. I put "poor planning" as the cause of my accident. You asked for a fuller explanation and I trust the following details will be sufficient.

I am a bricklayer by trade. On the day of the accident, I was working alone on the roof of a new six story building. When I completed my work, I found that I had some bricks left over which, when weighed later were found to be slightly in excess of 500 lbs. Rather than carry the bricks down by hand, I decided to lower them in a barrel by using a pulley, which was attached to the side of the building on the sixth floor. Securing the rope at ground level, I went up to the roof, swung the barrel out and loaded the bricks into it. Then I went down and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the bricks.

You will note in Block 11 of the accident report form that I weigh 135 lbs. Due to my surprise at being jerked off the ground so suddenly, I lost my presence of mind and forgot to let go of the rope. Needless to say, I proceeded at a rapid rate up the side of the building.

In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel which was now proceeding downward at an equal, impressive speed. This explained the fractured skull, minor abrasions and the broken collar bone, as listed in section 3 of the accident report form. Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley.

Fortunately by this time I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold tightly to the rope, in spite of beginning to experience a great deal of pain.

At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of bricks hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Now devoid of the weight of the bricks, that barrel weighed approximately 50 lbs. I refer you again to my weight. As you can imagine, I began a rapid descent, down the side of the building.

In the vicinity of the third floor, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, broken tooth and several lacerations of my legs and lower body.

Here my luck began to change slightly. The encounter with the barrel seemed to slow me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell into the pile of bricks and fortunately only three vertebrae were cracked.

I am sorry to report, however, as I lay there on the pile of bricks, in pain, unable to move, I again lost my composure and presence of mind and let go of the rope and I lay there watching the empty barrel begin its journey back down onto me. This explains the two broken legs.

I hope this answers your inquiry.

"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." - Edmund Burke

who is one tenacious woman. Story was she was being pulled by a bicycle on skates or something and fell down. She refused to let go of the rope as a matter of principle, which explains why she is only a B-cup.

"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." - Edmund Burke

sheeesh...again... Yep until your post this was the funniest thing id ever read... we now have two to start our list... guys...see ya later tonight...gota go or get the "look" ...gueessing you all understand

a man has to hold his word, hold his beliefs, and hold a good sight picture.